


Nothing Bad

by TechnologicalNoiz



Category: Fallen Hero Series - Malin Rydén, Fallen Hero: Rebirth (Video Game)
Genre: Angst, Fire, M/M, PTSD, an explanation to one of cy's scars, soft angst
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-10
Updated: 2019-08-10
Packaged: 2020-08-14 13:58:08
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 562
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20193415
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TechnologicalNoiz/pseuds/TechnologicalNoiz
Summary: His fingers run tenderly over the scar on your shoulder. He wants to ask, wants to know where it came from. You don't want to remember. “Fire,” you say anyways





	Nothing Bad

The first time you sleep next to him is terrifying. You have never been that vulnerable around anyone. You are still fully clothed, he understands. He pulls you close, holds you tight as exhaustion takes over your mind, forcing you into the depths of darkness.

The next time is still scary but not as bad. Slowly a whole new level of trust forms between you. Sleep comes easier in his arms.

Eventually you become used to the warm body beside you, cool hands against your oversensitive skin. A comfortable weight on top of you as he presses you into the bed fingers intertwined. He learns of your scars. Your secrets. Traces the bright lines scrawled across your skin with care. Questions lurk in his mind. He never asks.

His fingers run tenderly over the scar on your shoulder. He wants to ask, wants to know where it came from. You don't want to remember. “Fire,” you say anyways suppressing a shudder as memories surface. Screams, your own, as your flesh melted from your body. You nearly passed out from the pain. But you couldn't. Not then. Not now. If you stopped it would all be over. You would have been back in their hands again. Only this time there would be no chance of escape.

You push yourself up off the bed, his hand slides from your shoulder. You need to pace. He lets you go. You want to smoke but you promised him you would cut back. It has been difficult. More so than you imagined. Your body craves the drug you have come to rely on. Your mind in a frenzy begging for something to take the edge off. Instead you dig your hand into the pocket of your jeans clenching your lighter tightly in your fist. You click it open as you pull it out and fidget, open, close, click, repeat. You light it watching the flame dance in your hand, beautiful, captivating, terrifying.

You shudder closing it again. A building falling, a pipe burst, oil seeping into your clothes, onto your skin. All it would take is a spark. You shake your head and look towards the window. The blinds are still closed but no light slips through. It's late. A chill runs through you, the hair on your arms rising.

"Hey," the hand placed on your shoulder makes you flinch violently, holding you down, restraining. He pulls it back. "Stop thinking about it…" He is standing close enough that you can feel the heat coming from his body. Comforting, warm.  _ Not fire. _ Not searing it's way through flesh, practically to bone. It could have killed you… It should have killed you, but this wretched world won't let you die.

The infection after was bad. The blisters excruciating. "Cyrus." A light, quick touch between your shoulder blades, just enough to get your attention. Concern oozes it's way into your thoughts. You tense again, still not entirely used to free touch.

"Sorry." You mutter. It's only Chen. Nothing bad is going to happen to you. Not here. He won't let it. You lean back again him, allowing yourself to relax as his arm wraps around your waist. Skin to skin, your back against his chest. Something so simple that you have denied yourself. Physical touch has always meant pain. But maybe not anymore. Not here, safe in his arms.


End file.
